


Equally Cursed and Blessed

by paperwar



Series: Trouble Shared [3]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou
Genre: Multi, OT3, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwar/pseuds/paperwar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matoba's a problem that can't easily be solved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equally Cursed and Blessed

**Author's Note:**

> With love and gratitude to destinyislands, lovepeaceohana, mourirdemain, and vi for all their encouragement and suggestions!

"I hate the way Matoba looks at you." Kaname shuddered and put a hand on Takashi's shoulder.

Tooru stacked the plate she'd been drying on top of the others in the cupboard, took a cup, and said, "Me too. Like you're a fascinating bug he wants to collect."

The first time Matoba appeared at their door, Tooru and Kaname had stepped to either side of Takashi, a kind of honor guard, without even speaking. Kaname had fought the urge to ball a fist: both fists, really; Matoba deserved both of them and more. Tooru had been bristly, just this side of polite. She'd said things that sounded nice, but it was obvious to anyone who knew her at all that her smile had teeth, that her friendly words held hidden knives. 

During their last year of high school, Kaname remembered seeing her patience growing thin with Nishimura, who never realized her smiles were getting more and more strained. And then one day she'd slapped him. She'd apologized so many times and so profusely that Kaname wondered if Nishimura might end up getting the wrong idea after all. Kaname told her again and again that it was fine, that Nishimura had really been pushing it, that her reaction had made sense. She'd protested that, sensible or not, it wasn't good to hit people when you could do something else.

He'd wanted to hit Matoba. He thought possibly even Tooru, with her words laden with coils of shining razor-sharp wire, wanted to hit Matoba.

But they didn't, and somehow Takashi managed the right combination of words -- firm, polite, but respectful and maybe even slightly awed in the right places -- to make Matoba go away again. They hadn't been sure what he wanted the first time. 

They certainly hadn't been sure when he returned yesterday. "Maybe he wants to look at you since he can't put you in a museum or under a magnifying glass," Tooru said, shivering. 

Takashi took the dishtowel from her. "I'll finish these," he said, wiping the last droplets of water off of a glass. "I don't know what Matoba wants. Not just with me," he amended with an uncomfortable laugh. "With the exorcists, with youkai. He's just..."

"Hungry!" came a new voice: Nyanko-sensei prancing into the kitchen. "Gimme something to eat!"

Tooru pounced, snatching him up for a cuddle, which he protested dramatically and perhaps not in an entirely heartfelt manner, before she rummaged through the fridge and found some leftovers for him.

"Matoba's hungry too," Nyanko-sensei said a moment later around a mouthful of food. "He can't see something without wanting to own it. Youkai or human. That one will never be satisfied."

Kaname pushed himself up from the counter he'd been leaning on. "But then what do we do? He's not just going to stop attacking youkai." He glanced over at Takashi. "You've asked him to. And it didn't work."

The silence that descended felt, Kaname thought, like the silence of every other time they'd puzzled over this question. And into the silence there never came an answer.

**

"I still don't understand," Takashi said. "What do you get out of this?"

He was sitting with a pair of exorcists in a family restaurant. Sato was an older woman, almost grandmotherly but with a tight cruel smile; Ohno was younger, perhaps Shigeru's age, a man whose default facial expression seemed to be studied blandness. 

Natori had, at Takashi's request, arranged this meeting, suggesting these two might be more open to Takashi's thinking than others. Natori had distanced himself from the clans, limiting himself only to the exorcism of truly dangerous youkai, ones that Takashi himself felt uneasy about keeping unbound. Still, Takashi sometimes wished Natori would move more actively against exorcists like Matoba. Then he would chide himself for being ungrateful. Natori was surely doing what he could: like setting up this introduction.

Takashi was familiar with the two exorcists on sight. From what he knew, they were comparatively kind to their shiki, though he didn't count that for much. The restaurant was their idea. He couldn't imagine why, but here they were, like some kind of twisted family.

"We're just protecting humans," Sato said. She folded her hands on the table and looked at Takashi as if daring him to contradict her.

Ohno nodded. "Most humans have no idea about the danger lurking around them. Isn't it better that way? We take care of the problem before it becomes one."

"But lots of youkai are happy to ignore humans. They just want to live their lives," Takashi said, crumpling his napkin in his hands. The soda he'd ordered at their urging sat on the table, ice cubes clinking as they melted. "Why do you have to do this?"

"We have to stop them before they attack. Why do you think there are such persistent myths about them attacking humans? Because they did, once, and they still do." Sato was almost snarling.

Takashi's fist hit the table. "You don't know that. Why do you treat all youkai like they've done something wrong?"

Ohno leaned towards him. "I understand wanting to be sentimental. I do. I used to be like you. I had a youkai I imagined was my friend." He rolled up his sleeve; Takashi recoiled at the scar that twined over most of the man's forearm. "This is what happened when it got bored with me." He pulled the fabric back down over his arm. "I was lucky to make it out alive." 

Takashi swallowed. "I'm very sorry that happened to you. But that still doesn't mean every youkai is bad!"

"We can't take chances." Sato sipped from her glass of water before adding, "What makes you so sure we should just leave them alone?"

"Because I know them. Lots of them," Takashi said. "I talk to them and they're my friends." He stood up. "And I want you to stop attacking them." Pushing in his chair, he said, "That's not negotiable." 

As he left, he heard soft laughter behind him, and murmured words he couldn't understand.

**

"Another incident," Tooru said, finishing the sentence she was scrawling on a notepad and tossing her pen onto the kitchen table. She blew her hair away from her forehead in frustration. "Exorcists! They weren't doing anything, of course. They just happened to be there." Kaname, back from work, threw himself into the chair next to her. He was developing a new habit of wrinkling his forehead when he frowned; on less serious occasions, she'd teased him that he was going to make himself look old before his time.

Right after breakfast, while she was clearing away the dishes and Takashi and Kaname had left for work, the chuukyuu had knocked on the door. That morning she'd already cast the spell that allowed her to see youkai, so their agitation was immediately apparent. A pair of exorcists had surprised them while they'd been eating their own breakfast. The humans had stared boldly for a few moments, without speaking, before walking away. In his rush to report to Tooru, the cyclops had stumbled over his words repeatedly, and the cow youkai had been nearly incoherent in his echoing of them. 

"I'm glad Takashi wasn't here," Tooru told Kaname. "I don't think they can take much more of this. The chuukyuu even snapped at me," she said, wringing her hands. "Something's going to happen soon." She felt it like a stone in her stomach. In a way she would welcome it, as a change from the mounting dread of the last several days. There'd been a lot of exorcists spotted. Never doing anything suspicious: no setting traps, no attacks. They just appeared in places where there were lots of youkai. 

Nobody had seen Matoba directly, but no one had really expected to. Still, every time Tooru left the house she half-expected to see long dark hair streaming out from behind a streetlamp. She crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose. "I feel silly, but -- "

"I know what you mean," Kaname said. He stood up to make dinner, pausing to rub Tooru's shoulders for a moment. If he was developing wrinkles on his forehead, she suspected that she in turn was developing a hunch from too long spent squinting at books or puzzling out notes in her increasingly illegible handwriting. Kaname always seemed to know when her shoulders were aching.

**

Takashi was loading the refrigerated shelves with onigiri before the lunch rush when a hand on his shoulder made him jump and nearly drop the entire tray. Whirling around, he frowned to see Natori there. He liked Natori, but their meetings were rarely benign.

"I've got to speak with you," Natori said, nothing of the capricious movie star in his voice or his gaze. He took the onigiri and set it down on a stack of boxes, grabbing Takashi by the arm and towing him towards the door.

Takashi made flustered gestures towards his manager, who was giving them an inquisitive look from behind the counter. "It's urgent," Natori said. "It's about his family." 

Takashi, heart thudding, caught Natori's wink but didn't feel comforted. Did that mean it was about Kaname and Tooru, or not?

The manager smiled and waved Takashi on. "Don't worry, it's slow," he said. Kaname was convinced that the guy had a crush on Takashi, had cited what he said were jealous looks when he'd gone to meet Takashi once at the end of his shift. Takashi had sputtered uncomfortably at the idea. But right now, he was glad that, for whatever reason, it was all right if he went to speak with Natori.

He and Natori hurried around the corner to stand in an alley. "Trouble's coming," Natori said without preamble.

"What? Where? Is it -- " Takashi gasped.

"Yatsuhara," Natori said, and there was a moment, traitorously, where Takashi's heart soared in gladness: it wasn't Kaname or Tooru this time. Please, he thought, let it never be them ever again, even as he felt like he was betraying everyone else in his life with the wish. Natori continued, "Matoba is going to attack Yatsuhara."

Guilt shot through Takashi for any relief, however momentary, connected to news like this. "What? The youkai there are harmless!"

Natori shook his head. "Not all of them. That Misuzu would be a real prize for Matoba. I'm sure he's been keeping an eye on him." He paused and put a hand on Takashi's shoulder. "But it isn't about Misuzu. It's about you."

"Me? Why?" 

"Natsume." Natori's voice was kind, which frightened Takashi more than anything else in the conversation thus far. "He knows all your friends are there. He thinks you'll join him if he promises to leave them alone."

Takashi shivered. "That's ridiculous!" he said, even as he wondered if he could pretend to do that long enough to make Matoba back off. "When? When is he going to attack?" 

"Very soon, I'm afraid." Natori extended his other hand to reveal the singed remnants of a paper doll. "I was able to find out he's on the move, but unfortunately my spywork was detected. He'll act even more quickly now."

Takashi was already on the move himself, darting back inside the store. He opened his mouth to apologize, but his manager, smiling, interrupted. "Your shift ends in thirty minutes anyway. Go. I'll take care of everything." 

Takashi called out hasty gratitude and burst out of the door again. He was about to dash off when a hand on his shoulder jerked him to a halt. He was getting tired of being grabbed from behind. "What?" It was Natori again.

"I'm coming with you."

Takashi didn't want to waste any time; he merely waved Natori on and they began to run. "Why?" Takashi asked, not looking back as he waited at a busy intersection, looking for the first opportunity to dash across the street against the light. "You don't even like youkai." There -- a car passed, leaving a space. He hurtled across the three-lane road. 

Natori, keeping easy pace with him, said, "I wouldn't say that, precisely. But never mind, the more important thing is that..." He paused as they made another sprint. Once they made it across the street, he said, "Let's just say I'm not in favor of the way Matoba rules the clans. And it's time to choose a side." As they hurried down the sidewalk, he added, "And I'm choosing yours."

Takashi's eyes, startled, met Natori's. "Thank you," Takashi gasped, digging in his pocket for his phone. After months of pleading from Kaname and Tooru, he had finally agreed to warn them when he headed off on youkai business. "There's trouble," he panted once Tooru picked up. "I'm with Natori. I'll be back later." 

"What? Where? Takashi, where are you going? We'll -- " she yelped. "Tell us what's going on." 

He swallowed. "I'll be home later."

"Yatsuhara," Natori called, cupping his hands to focus his voice towards the phone. Natsume glared at him.

"Yatsuhara? Okay, we'll be right there!" Tooru said.

"No," Takashi protested. "You and Kaname stay at -- " 

She'd hung up. "You shouldn't have done that." Takashi frowned at Natori as they resumed their frantic pace.

"They made their choice a long time ago, you know," Natori said, one eyebrow raised.

**

"Stop!" Takashi yelled, flinging himself towards Matoba, who stood, bow at the ready, twenty or thirty exorcists arrayed in a loose semi-circle around him. Facing them, crouching in a tense huddle, were the dozens of small youkai that made up the landscape of Yatsuhara as much as any tree. The chuukyuu, eyes riveted to Matoba, were at the front somehow; someone must have pushed them there, Tooru thought. Hinoe shoved her way in front of them, scowling. But Tooru could see that even her hands shook faintly. Behind them, Misuzu loomed, a wild grin on his face. Nyanko-sensei, glorious and terrible in his original form, was emitting a low growl.

Takashi slipped past Hinoe, sparing a moment to give her an apologetic smile when he bumped her arm. He spread his arms to block the arrow Matoba was aiming. His face was smooth, devoid of emotion: not the blankness that Tooru had seen when they were in high school, when Takashi had been trying to cover up something. It was the serenity of conviction. His voice, however, held a precise fury that Tooru had never heard before: "I won't let you do this." 

"Oh? Are you sure?" Matoba, hand lingering at the bowstring, looked like a cat who'd cornered a mouse and knew it couldn't escape. His loyal exorcists froze, hands half-raised to command shiki or unfurl a paper charm. The youkai around them, too, were still, whether contemplating flight or steeling themselves for defense.

"I won't join you," Takashi said, and Tooru's heart stuttered in her chest. "So don't ask me again. But I won't allow you to do this."

"I could destroy this whole field and you wouldn't be able to stop me." Matoba pursed his lips. "Are you willing to die for them? Really?" His voice was lazy, casual, and the smirk that never seemed far from his lips extended across his face.

"Yes," came Takashi's answer, without hesitation. Tooru's eyes were damp; she'd known what he would say, had known it for a long time, but to hear him hurl that response at Matoba was another thing altogether.

Again the world waited. Tooru wondered if Takashi would die in the next moment. She could see Kaname out of the corner of her eye. A muscle in his arm bunched. She closed her eyes and sent a silent plea in his direction: _no_. If anyone moved there would be slaughter.

It was down to Takashi and Matoba. Perhaps it always had been.

In another world, they might've been friends. 

A sound, and Tooru's eyes flew open. Not Kaname, no, but a laugh from Matoba -- ice, all ice -- as he took his hand off the bowstring. "You're more useful to me alive." Matoba raised his hand. "Stand down," he commanded his exorcists. He took three easy steps forward, as if he'd just bumped into Takashi at the convenience store. The chuukyuu quailed and then skittered back a dozen feet.

"I'll see you again," Matoba said, smile now seeming to indicate relaxed, bright interest. "And you. I'll definitely see you again," he told Misuzu, whose feral grin widened. He turned to Natori. "As for you -- well, this all gets even more delightful, doesn't it?" That laugh, absent of anything resembling mirth, rang out again, hollow like a skull. His smile sharpened -- Tooru was sure it could draw blood -- as he turned to leave. Matoba never looked back, though his followers did, shooting Takashi glances full of wonder and enmity. 

Natori murmured, "I'll make sure there aren't any stragglers." 

"Thank you." Takashi's gratitude was automatic; he didn't seem to really register Natori standing in front of him. 

Natori dipped his head. "We'll talk later." He caught Tooru and Kaname's eyes: his look seemed to say, _take care of him_. Tooru felt a flare of annoyance; what else would they do? She gave Natori a curt nod as he trailed after Matoba's entourage. Nyanko-sensei muttered something about making sure that "idiot movie star" didn't miss anyone. With the gracefulness of his true form that never failed to awe Tooru, he sprang into the air to follow them. 

When they disappeared from view, everyone seemed to move at once. Tooru and Kaname pushed their way forward and seized Takashi in a gigantic embrace; Tooru was sure she wasn't the only one crying. 

"You've bought us some time," Kaname said roughly, voice muffled by Takashi's hair.

Takashi pulled back and looked at them both. "Yes." His eyes were so weary, so haunted. "It's not over."

The chuukyuu were shouting their gratitude and relief. Misuzu bumped them out of the way, sending them flying. "Natsume-dono, I could eat that human in one bite -- "

"No!" Takashi said, and his voice stilled all the others. "We can't do that. We can't start a war."

Silence fell again at his declaration; nobody could argue, but nobody could suggest what else to do.

**

Kaname supposed it was almost funny: A leader among the youkai was certainly one of the last things Takashi wanted to become. Yet Misuzu, who was the most powerful one there by far, restrained himself when he'd much rather attack Matoba. It wasn't because of any compulsion, either, since Misuzu had finally consented to have his name returned last year. And he wasn't the only youkai that looked to Takashi for direction, even if he was the most impressive.

The youkai began drifting away, in tiny groups whispering nervously, in pairs glancing from side to side, in thoughtful solitude. 

"Let's go," Kaname said.

"Sometimes," Takashi said, "I guess you just keep going because you don't know what else to do." He rubbed one eye with a palm and kicked a pebble away as they began to make their way back home, slow and stunned.

Kaname tucked his hand inside Takashi's and matched his step. "Changing can be hard," he said, and regretted the words the instant he spoke them: useless. He didn't know what to say, but maybe that meant he should just shut up instead. 

He was surprised when Takashi squeezed his hand and said, "Thank you for reminding me," with an exhausted little laugh, more a sigh than anything else.

Tooru took Takashi's other hand. "It's easy enough for people to get stuck," she said. "And sometimes you just forget that there are other choices."

Matoba must've reached that point a long time ago, Kaname thought. He walked away, when all the firepower was his, when he could've obliterated every youkai at Yatsuhara. Because he still couldn't believe Takashi would sacrifice himself trying to save as many of them as possible. And because Matoba valued Takashi more than all the youkai put together. It wasn't a retreat. Matoba would return.

"It's hard," Tooru said softly, "to find another way, isn't it?"

The rest of the way home they were silent. Nyanko-sensei, returned to his cat form, scampered up as they reached their house. "You should've let me eat him long ago," he grumbled.

**

Kaname snorted. "Well, I don't think we'll ever run into Matoba grocery shopping. He probably has some of his minions do it for him." Matoba certainly didn't do his own dishes, Kaname thought as he stacked their dinner plates, bringing them to the sink.

Takashi shrugged from where he sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. "You're probably right."

"I just trust him even less when we can't see any signs of what he's doing," Tooru said, from where she sat, knees to her chest, on the couch. She reached out a hand to stroke Nyanko-sensei next to her. A small purr issued forth, giving way to gentle snores.

It had been three weeks since the confrontation at Yatsuhara: twenty-one days during which the three of them went to work, ate dinner together, loved each other, bought vegetables, mopped the floor. 

While looking over their shoulders the entire time. 

At least Kaname felt like he was constantly checking around him; Takashi and Tooru seemed jumpy too. Because this peace, if peace it was, was uncertain; they didn't know its parameters, what small slight might bust through it. They were waiting for something. They didn't know what it was, but Matoba wouldn't fade away so easily.

"Maybe he's trying to force us to make the first move," Tooru said. "Because if we get so nervous that we can't wait him out anymore, we might do something stupid." Her shoulders flew up in apology: the three of them had talked out this idea multiple times already, but they kept mentioning it, as if enough repetition might stir some new shred of insight.

"Maybe," Kaname said, coming back into the living room, words tumbling out before he lost his train of thought, "he's waiting to see if Takashi controls the youkai. Remember that comment he made the second time he came to our house? What was it?"

Tooru stared thoughtfully at Takashi. "Something about power. How both you and he had power, and you thought his was through coercion, but you might want to consider the source of yours as well." She made a rude noise. "Which is ridiculous, of course. People do things because they love you, Takashi. And because what you suggest makes sense."

Takashi sputtered, "I hope you're right. I don't want to have that kind of power over anyone."

"Well, the youkai know what kind of person you are." Kaname sat down and glared. "Believe me, you're nothing like Matoba." 

Tooru, scowling herself, nodded. "Just because you're both powerful doesn't mean you're the same kind of people. Look what he chooses to do with his power: make people afraid of him, make people do what he wants. He uses his power to cause pain. You're completely the opposite."

Takashi's hands clenched in his lap. "I'm still afraid that someday I'll find that I've become him." He looked up. Kaname could see his eyes shining with tears. "It's only because I have people like you that I'm not like that."

"You were a good person before you ever met us! Even when you were the most alone, you were never like him," Tooru objected.

"Trust us," Kaname said. "There's no way you could ever be like Matoba." He stood up and dropped to the floor next to Takashi, putting an arm around him. 

Tooru wiggled over to Takashi's other side and leaned her head on his shoulder. "You're just not like that. It doesn't matter whether or not you can see youkai, there's no way you could be that power-hungry and cruel." She kissed his cheek. "I promise."

The answering smile on Takashi's face was wan and uncertain. "I hope you're both right." He threw his head into his hands and said, "I just... want this all to stop." He jerked his head up suddenly to look at both of them, eyes wild. "I have you both. And our friends. And Nyanko-sensei. And I gave back all the names finally." He sucked in a tremulous breath. "I just want things to be easy or... normal." The word tugged an unsteady smile to his lips. "Maybe normal will never happen. That's all right. But I was just hoping for a happy ending." He shook his head. "Stupid, I know."

"There aren't any happy endings," Kaname said. "I think it's a myth." He shrugged, feeling a half-smile stealing across his face. "That doesn't mean we can't be happy."

"Just that the story doesn't end," Tooru said. "Our story doesn't end. Not yet, anyway," she conceded, wrinkling her nose. "I hope it doesn't end for a long time."

Silence stretched out across the next few moments, and then: "So what do we do?" Takashi asked dully.

"The same as we have been," Kaname said. "Keep trying to find another answer."

Tooru leaned into Takashi, turning her face into his shoulder. "And living the whole time." She looked up at both of them. "We don't just stop while we figure this out, you know?" She tugged at Kaname and Takashi until they were both within the circle of her arms. 

"It's hard," Takashi said, voice muffled by her arm. 

"I know," she whispered into his hair.

Kaname said, eyes closed, "It's the only good choice." 

Takashi sighed. "I know."

The three of them stayed there, leaning against each other, for a long time. Kaname opened his eyes to see the room had darkened around them as evening fell. He let his eyes close again, not wanting to leave the shelter of Tooru's arms around them, this tiny space they had against despair, and violence, and war, where every breath of the others was a comfort. 

It wouldn't last. Eventually they would have to move. But for now, it was enough, and more than enough.


End file.
